


Atalanta

by Cerusee



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Dogs, Gen, I owed Lanani a fic because of an ill-considered bet, batkids bathing a dog, it’s a long story, the sad part is I had to google how to bathe a dog, this is what she asked for, upset dogs who don’t like being bathed, which was frankly very sweet of her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 01:02:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12097302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerusee/pseuds/Cerusee
Summary: “Fuck Batman with a rusty-stringed fiddle,” Jason remarked to Stephanie.  “I am never answering my phone again.”“I think he thinks you like dogs.”“I do like dogs.  I also like kids.  I think they’re just super, Steph.  That doesn’t mean I appreciate being stuck with this kind of babysitting gig without even being consulted about it.”





	Atalanta

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LananiA3O](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LananiA3O/gifts).



> I made the terrible mistake of betting @LananiA3O a fic that I could out-angst her during the Batfamcontent war of 2017. 
> 
> I lost, hard. And so I pay my fic debt.

“Jesus Christ, she’s skinny,” Jason said, grimacing, up to his elbows in bubbles.

“That’s normal, I guess,” Steph said. She was leaning against the wall of the bathroom, poking at her phone. “It’s how they’re built. Apparently. They’re runners.”

“The Flashes have more muscle than this.”

The dog growled at him. Jason growled back.

“Don’t do that, you dipshit,” Steph said, heatedly. “You’re antagonizing her. Don’t growl.”

“Cesar Romano says to establish dominance,” Jason said.

“Cesar Romano is full of horseshit. Unclench, or I’m coming in there with her right now. It will be messy. I will rub soap in your eyes.”

Jason sat back from the bath where the bedraggled greyhound sat, dripping, miserable, growling, and curling her lips to show her teeth. “What the hell am I supposed to do, then?”

Steph googled frantically. “Uhhhhh, how’s the water temperature?”

“Nice and warm. I’m not spraying this girl with freezing water.” Jason picked up a bath toy and and started to juggle it one-handed, as if to distract the poor soaking dog. “I used to see people do that, you know,” he said, bitterly. “God’s perfect fuckfaces who thought it was funny to turn a cold hose on a dog and listen to them cry.”

“Okay,” Steph said, cautiously, “but Google says lukewarm water is better for dogs than hot. So don’t go crazy.”

“Thanks, Stephie. You hear that?” Jason said, the latter part to the dog. He made kissy noises at the greyhound, while he reached over to adjust the knobs of the faucet on the bathtub. “You’re Mama Bear, you need it just in the middle, so that’s what we’ll do. Sorry about before.”

The dog whined, but she seemed to relax a little with the new, cooler water temperature, and uncurled her lips from her incisors. She let Jason rub shampoo into her fur, making unhappy noises, and trying to nose at her fur, while Jason gently nudged her deer-like head up and away from the soap. Jason cooed in a way that Steph thought he’d probably hate for anyone to hear (starting with Batman, and ending with Little Lou, the greasy pusher who kept showing up kitty-corner across from various Gotham public middle schools, and who Steph had only stopped Jason from outright murdering six months ago when she jumped on Jason’s back and put him in a chokehold. Jason had been righteously pissed at the time, but the next time he saw her, he complimented her on her technique).

“Fuck Batman with a rusty-stringed fiddle,” Jason remarked to Stephanie. “I am never answering my phone again.”

“I think he thinks you like dogs.”

“I do like dogs. I also like kids. I think they’re just super, Steph. That doesn’t mean I appreciate being stuck with this kind of babysitting gig without even being consulted about it.”

Steph shrugged. “Damian’s out of town, Alfred apparently drew a hard line at bathing the Muddy Evidence Dog who was tracking dirt all over the Cave—who was he gonna call? Dick? Tim? Please. You’re here today because the reward for a job well done is a harder job.”

Jason lifted one arm out out the bath and flipped Steph the bird. “If this becomes a thing, I will leave the country for at least six months. You can answer to them when they all ask where the fuck I am.” Jason opened the bathtub drain, and when the water was mostly gone, he carefully poured a bucket of clean warm water over the agitated canine. “ _Okay!_ ,” he told her, in an aggressively cheerful tone.

She knew that one, apparently, and she leapt out of the bath, accidentally treading on Jason’s shoulder, and shook herself violently, spraying warm water all over the bathroom, including on Steph.

“Oh my god,” Steph said, and pressed the back of her hand against her mouth. “She’s a perfect little shit. You’re soulmates. You should adopt her.”

“You think?” Jason said. He looked at the damp, shivering dog on the floor, covered in a towel, but snuffling around the room and at their bare feet anyway. “Yeah?” His voice had gone soft on that last word.

“Uh,” Steph said. “I was kidding...but I bet you’d actually be great,” she said softly.

“I don’t think...I can’t, you know?,” Jason said wistfully. “I’m not home often enough. It wouldn’t be fair to her.”

“I guess not,” Steph said. “Sorry.”

They watched the greyhound sniff her way around the bathroom, eventually shedding the towel, while she reared up onto her back feet and tried to investigate the sink.

“Maybe she could just, you know…”

“Stay here?” Jason said. “Sure, I bet the demon bird would like another dog. And if Bruce doesn’t like it, screw him.”

“Maybe.” Steph said, “Or maybe she could stay here, but still be yours. Then you could come by and see your dad as often as you wanted, and neither of you would have to make up dumb excuses to talk to each other, like ‘Hey Jason, I broke my shoulder and I have to run these samples, and you're the only one who can come bathe my stray evidence dog’”. She crossed her arms, watching the dog and not making eye contact.

Jason put a hand out and shoved Steph, hard. She staggered into the wall, and then caught her balance. “That’s a great idea,” Jason said. "I'm not talking to you any more, though. You're so fucking rude." He fell into a crouch, and started making _come hither_ noises at the greyhound.

Steph kicked his thigh, very gently. “Were you raised by wolves?”

“Nah,” Jason said. “Bats.” The dog was next to Jason, sniffing his hand, and tentatively licking it. “You know what, I think I’ll name her after you.”

“No you won't,” Steph said. “I have the only good nickname already, and we’re not going to do another Alfred the cat thing.”

“Princess,” Jason said, standing.

Steph smacked Jason’s head.

He shoved her with his shoulder, and they both sat down again, cross-legged, and watched the dog explore the room.

“Atalanta,” Jason said.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a Greek myth. She was like...the first Marathon runner, but before the Marathon.”

“That’s nice,” Steph said, and bit her lip.

The dog had completed her exploration of the room, and was back on Jason, sniffing at his hands, his face, his ears. “Hey, how about—Lanty, for short”’ Jason said. “What a pretty girl, Lanty,” he said sweetly, rubbing the greyhound’s head.

Steph reached out and petted the greyhound’s flank. Lanty turned and licked Steph’s hand. “Yeah, I’ll be your step-dog-mom,” Steph said, grinning.

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“You didn’t need to.”


End file.
